Herein lies the testimony of a broken heart.
Kindred to only a few, faceless billions.
Father of unborn sons.
Witness to a thousand lost dreams.
Herein lies the words of a pariah
marked and ostracized by family and society
for the sin of wrath, and the tragic falter of hubris.
For fighting the good fight
fighting the bad fight
fighting the only fight
and still losing.
Losing a piece of himself
with each passing hour.
Here is not a man of the cloth, the sword, or the coin.
Here is not a man, but a shade.
Offering a new covenant to imaginary phantasms,
and a fraternity of calloused judgemental infadels.
Here is a man of ideals and furious poetry left lovingly as an archive
of sand in a gale.
Herein lies the wounds of a mind left too long in solitude.
